


Uneven Odds

by leoxxii



Series: Subnautica: Survivors [2]
Category: Subnautica (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mild Blood, Not Canon Compliant, Panic Attacks, and also, bc of the dead people, its mostly just hurt, like blood is mentioned in like 2 sentences, well one panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23352079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoxxii/pseuds/leoxxii
Summary: "Their habitats were always more windows than reinforcement. They were never built to withstand getting attacked by anything, let alone a leviathan. Bart had always wanted the observatories, had always been the only one of them to simply watch the creatures swimming around. He feels somewhat responsible for it all.The glass shatters."
Series: Subnautica: Survivors [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1332170
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Uneven Odds

**Author's Note:**

> writing subnautica fanfics is just like *ignores canon* *ignores canon* *ignores canon* *ignores canon* *igno

"There is no compromise! Not while she's on my seabase!"

" _Your_ seabase?"

Bart stares at them both for a moment, bitterness surging through him. He thought they were getting better at this. He thought everything was supposed to be getting _better._ They were acting the same as ever. They didn't have time for petty arguments - how could _neither_ of them see that?

He takes a deep breath, determined to not start snapping alongside them.

"I'm going outside," He tells no one in particular, as soon as he sees his father open his mouth, the words strangely difficult to say. He doesn't look back at either as he walks towards the hatch

The water outside is much colder than the habitat, and for a moment he can't breath quite right. Then he swims to one of the Seamoths, desperate to get out of the cold, and suddenly finding himself not wanting to return back inside at all for as long as possible.

A noise next to his ear buzzes.

"Bart!"

Why does he feel so exhausted? He wasn't just a moment ago. His chest feels heavy with burdens he isn't even sure he can figure out himself. He stubbornly refuses to say anything to his father - if he wants to argue with Marguerit, then they can do that _without_ involving him.

"Come back inside, it's dangerous!"

Bart eyes the Reaper still tied to the Cyclops as he gets in the Seamoth. He can see the Crabsquids turning to observe the noise, and he can hear the Warpers taking notice of him. The headlights turn on, completely automatic, and Bart quickly shuts them back off.

What was he _doing?_ It was dangerous out here - it was the middle of night, which made the already limited light even less helpful. The creatures hated lights, so they couldn't even use their own without getting attacked. Where would he even go? The island?

When would he come back? Would one of them fetch him? He has nothing more than a wetsuit, oxygen tank, and a mask. He can't fight against anything out there, and he doesn't know if he even would if he could.

A deep feeling of panic and dread suddenly overcomes him. He can't breath. He can't go back inside - he needs to get out of here. He needs to leave.

The Seamoth felt too small, felt like it was closing in on him, the weight of the tank felt impossibly heavy, the Crabsquids much too loud -

"Dammit boy, I know you can hear me!"

Bart opens his mouth, but his throat feels dry and scratchy, and no words come out. He _can_ hear his father; he doesn’t know what to say to him right now. He’s not sure he even would if he wasn’t suddenly feeling like he was going to drown.

He grips the steering wheel tightly, and tries to will everything to be quiet for just a few moments, so he can figure out what’s wrong with him. Why can’t he breath? The Seamoth was powered, and his tank was full regardless, he had been fine just moments ago. This has never happened to him before.

_I need to leave._

He needs fresh air, he decides. He should go to the island. It was nearby, he could find it without any trouble. He wouldn’t be cramped in a tiny base, or vehicle. He wouldn’t be in a cave. He’d be able to see the sky. He hasn’t seen the sky for weeks. He’s sure that’ll help. Right?

A loud roar cuts through everything else, drowning it out. It sounds oddly familiar, yet Bart’s sure he’s never heard the noise before, and the panic in his gut gets worse. He turns his head to look out the Seamoth window, and his heart drops.

A Reaper. A Reaper leviathan. A _second, uninjured,_ and quite frankly _pissed off_ Reaper leviathan.

How? How was it here? _Why_ was it here?

Bart thinks he can hear Marguerit's voice, muffled and quiet from over the radio. The leviathan swims over to the one tied to the Cyclops, and circles it for a moment.

 _It followed Marguerit,_ he realizes. _Father was right._ _It knows this is our fault._

It slows down, and turns to look at the habitat. Bart suddenly realizes what it came here for.

"Father," Bart finally chokes out, despite barely being able to breath, "It's going to charge at the habitat,"

There's no response, and Bart hears nothing but static.

_He's not on the radio anymore._

_They can't hear me._

The Reaper roars again, somehow sounding angrier, and charges straight towards the glass.

_They can't hear me!_

Their habitats were always more windows than reinforcement. They were never built to withstand getting attacked by anything, let alone a leviathan. Bart had always wanted the observatories, had always been the only one of them to simply watch the creatures swimming around. He feels somewhat responsible for it all.

The glass shatters.

* * *

Marguerit awakes with a start, feeling out of breath.

At her feet, a tiny Snowstalker raises his head, his tail thumping excitedly against the floor. 

She glances around the room, and upon seeing the leviathan skull hanging on the wall, she suddenly recalls what she'd been dreaming about.

"I still don't get why you keep that thing," A voice says from somewhere behind her, "I certainly wouldn't leave a massive reminder of probably the worst decision of my life in my base."

Marguerit grinds her teeth. "Well, this isn't _your_ base. Leave if it bothers you that much." She purposefully emphasizes _your,_ hoping to irritate or upset him or _something_. She's eager for an argument.

She looks over her shoulder, fully expecting him to start trying to lecture her, but instead he winces, as if the words physically hurt him, and doesn't reply.

Marguerit's chest feels hollow, and a strong feeling of grief washes over her. She promptly shoves the emotion away, and stands up from her chair.

"I'm going outside," She announces gruffly, and the words are accidentally too familiar, and they accidently _hurt._

Paul stays silent, and _that's_ all too familiar as well.

The Snowstalker whines, as if he's also upset, and nudges her leg with his head.

Marguerit ignores them both, and leaves the room.

The water outside is cold, and it's annoyingly dark inside the cave.

She ignores that, too.

She ends up on land. Land that feels familiar now. Land that's permanently cold, and covered in a layer of snow. She hated it when they first got stranded here, and she still hates it now, despite the years she's had to get used to it.

Everything here was more of a pain to deal with than the place their ship landed at. The leviathans more aggressive, the food harder to catch, the air bitterly cold; nothing let up for even a moment. Everything used to be easier.

She treads through the snow as carefully as she can, not willing to deal with an Ice Worm. She sees a few Snowstalkers, but they all barely spare her a glance, so she walks by them without worry.

A light catches the corner of her eye, and she glances at it. The green geometric tint quickly spreads across the sky, covering it as far as she could see.

Somewhere behind her, she hears Snowstalkers howling anxiously. Her gaze quickly flickers around, as her confusion grows. A moment later, her radio buzzes.

"What the hell did you do?"

Marguerit almost smiles at the accusation. Almost. "What makes you think I have anything to do with this?"

Paul ignores the question. "What's happening?"

Marguerit rolls her eyes. " _I don't know._ Go figure it out yourself."

She glances back up at the sky, almost content to just ignore it for now, when she spots something beyond the… barrier? Shield? Whatever it was, Marguerit was certain she saw something behind it.

It seems to be getter closer, fairly quickly, and she realizes it looks an awful lot like a spaceship. But why would a spaceship be anywhere near this place? How could they land without getting shot down like the Degasi?

Maybe it has something to do with the strange net covering the sky, she reasons.

She stares at the black painted ship for a few more long moments, before it's close enough for her to realize something's _wrong._

It wasn't slowing down. It seemed to be burning.

"Chief?"

"What?"

"Think I found out what's causing this,"

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, the ship crashes into the shield, and Marguerit watches as it splinters into smaller and smaller pieces before falling through the holes. Ugly black smoke rises from the parts as they fall, as machines get torn apart and thrown away.

Marguerit reassures herself; at least the ship didn't look like many people could have been on it.

The fact doesn't make her feel better at all.

A few long silent moments pass as the pieces of it fall into the ocean. The shield disappears as quickly as it had appeared.

Then Marguerit sets off to scavenge what she can.

* * *

The largest remains rested deep within the Tree Spires, almost blending into the ground with the pitch darkness. It's barely anything when compared to the rest of the ship, but it's the best they had. Paul swims beside her as they enter through a hole torn into the side.

They're instantly greeted by the sight of a body, and a nauseating amount of blood in the water. Paul turns away, swimmer further into the wreckage, while Marguerit stares at it for another moment. Her eyes glance at one of the sleeves, and the bold letters written on it.

"They're Alterran," She muses.

"Alterran?" Paul questions, "Why would Alterra be here?" He pauses for a moment. "For us?"

Marguerit hums and swims through a corridor. "No… no, this looks more like a station than a rescue ship. Maybe a trading vessel."

Crates lined the walls, some cracked open to reveal cans of food and medkits. The storage room was fairly empty, and the room felt small even then. She takes as many as she can find in the few boxes that were open.

"A trading ship wouldn't have gotten this close to the planet," Paul points out. "Doesn't seem like it was large enough for a station, either."

Marguerit spots a PDA on the ground, and picks it up to reboot it. It opens on a half written note, abruptly cutting off in the middle of a word. She faintly recalls how busted her own PDA was, and packs the Alterran one into her bag.

"So it was just some normal ship," Marguerit starts, "That Alterra randomly decided to send out to an unexplored, mostly water filled planet?" She pushes open a door with ease, that leads to some sort of control room. She spots another body floating, half of an arm sliced off, she guesses from the shield. "Seemingly incredibly underprepared?"

She can almost hear Paul attempting to figure it out. She looks around the room for a few more moments, but doesn't find anything worth picking up. Her mind starts to reach for an idea.

"They must have thought they needed to come here," She swims back out through the door she entered, and glances at the oxygen meter in her mask. "Someone must have told them to."

She returns to her Seamoth, and throws the small amount she had in the built-in storage. She climbs into the vehicle, and glances at her hands. Green blisters covered them.

Bart had told them that it was going to kill them. He said he could slow it down, but he said he couldn't cure it.

It hadn't killed either of them yet. Despite years of not knowing if they'd make another week, it never killed them. If Bart could slow it down for himself…

Hope swells in Marguerit's chest.

"We're not the only two on this planet."

**Author's Note:**

> sorry this is so short aaaaaaaaa!! I wanted a sort of prologue for my next fanfic, but this didn't rlly fit in and the fic also has it's own prologue too,,,,,so anyways u know that feel when u think ur friend is dead and THEY think UR dead but in reality NONE OF U are dead?? 😔✊


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